"I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time."
~ Jack London

Bookworm Challenge 2016

1.) "Pleasures of the Damned" by Charles Bukowski
2.) "Batman and Psychology" by Travis Langley
3.) "Glory O'Brien's History of the Future" by A.S. King
4.) "The Best of Batman: 50th Anniversary in Film and Television"
5.) "Tough Sh*t: Life Advice From a Fat, Lazy Slob Who Did Good" by Kevin Smith
6.) "Lady Midnight" by Cassandra Clare
7.) "The Killing Joke" Alan Moore
8.) "The Merciless II" by Danielle Vega
9.) All Star Batman #1, #2, #3
10.) "Batman: Year One" Frank Miller
11.) "Rebirth: Batman" & "DC Universe Rebirth: Batman"

I keep falling behind on posting, and for that I am very sorry. I tell myself I need to write something, and then I get distracted or I’ve got a million things going on, and I get exhausted and tell myself that I’ll just do it ‘tomorrow’ – except when I get to that day finally, I put it off again. And again.

And again.

But here we are!

Obviously, being back at the day job has taken up quite a bit of my time. Add that to my trip to Chicago last weekend for my birthday (Yay, I’m now 25!), and I’ve been a very busy gal.

I had started working on a new project around the same time I started working again, but then quickly lost any and all free time that I had planned to use to write. In the process, I fell into more unhealthy habits – drinking soda again, sitting on my bum all day, eating less than healthy foods, etc – and have all around been failing at what progress I had been making in my life. As I had feared, everything else was pushed to the back burner while I worked my little fingers to the bone on things that, in the end, don’t matter to me nearly as much.

But my weekend away in Chicago made me realize something: just how badly I wanted those dreams of mine to be a reality. And I know I say that a lot. I know I kick myself into gear and then slack for whatever reason. But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to accomplish everything I’ve set out to do. This past weekend, I was surrounded by inspiration. I saw people on various levels of living out their dreams, and when I was on my flight back to reality, it sank in just how badly I wanted that for myself. No one should dread coming back to their life. But I always do. And I want that to change.

With that said, it’s time I get back to work on what matters. I’m going to get up earlier and go to bed later. I’m going to research and work and save and do everything possible to make everything possible. I’m going to work on Hail to the Geek, Baby and WanderingNerdGirl.com. And I’m NOT GOING TO PUT OFF POSTING! Once a week at least, that’s my goal. Hold me to it!

Figured I’d pop in and let you all know that I’m definitely alive, and tired, and trying harder than ever.

Failure – it’s a word I’ve been using against myself for a while now. But the last few months, since my aunt died, I’ve been quietly battering myself with the word.

Charlean was more than just my aunt. She treated me like I was one of her grand kids, and spent most of my childhood taking care of me. There’d be times once I was older that we’d have a difference of opinion, but she still loved me all the same. I spent the last few years regularly going over and bringing her books to read from my collection. But the books she wanted to read the most, she never had the chance to.

Mine.

And just a week or so before she died, I was promising I’d have a decent draft to bring by for her to read. I printed my manuscript. I was almost to the day job finish line. I could do it. I could finally let her read something I had written.

Then, I failed.

I was there when she died. I was there when the nurse came to clean the body. I was there when they came to take her away. It started at 3am and felt like it went on for an eternity. It was hard. Ridiculously hard.

Before my mother and I headed home, my uncle told me to go into my aunt’s bedroom and get the books she had borrowed off of her shelf. That’s when it hit me.

When I held those books in my hand and saw the bookmark where she left off, and the books she had yet to finish, it felt like an elephant stepped on my chest. I couldn’t cry again. I couldn’t breathe. Her life had stopped so abruptly, and then the thought finally hit me. I had failed her.

I have tried to reason with myself that I didn’t really fail her. But she always asked to read something of mine, and I always let everything else be more important than getting my writing career off the ground. She believed in me more than I ever have.

The thought still lingers there. It held me up on progress during my time I spent unemployed. I was ashamed of myself, and the words just wouldn’t come when I needed to write. All I could focus on was that word. Failure. I was out of time, so why should I progress?

It’s becoming easier now to confront this feeling. I’ve started writing again. Started edits again on the manuscript I had wanted her to read. I’m working on my projects and trying to balance things out and get my life back together. It still eats at me, but it also drives me.

My sincerest of apologies for disappearing for a bit after my Check In post. Both my computer crashed AND my internet got all screwed up. It was a very painful time in my life, haha. But seriously. Blogging becomes a problem whenever you have no computer or internet. Go figure.

So, I started work again. A different position, but better pay. I have the best coworkers, that understand my illness and my weirdness. We are encouraged to have individuality. I feel more comfortable giving my time to this day job, and I’m nowhere near as miserable as I once was. It’s a good feeling. I’ll have money for travel, appointments, savings.

But what about writing? Or art? Or any of the projects and things I’ve been devoting my free time to? Never fear. I’m making time. I’m actually more motivated and not only working on the manuscript I’ve been working on editing and revising for submission, but also working on rewriting an old favorite. I’m working hard to get WanderingNerdGirl.com customized and set up with posts. So don’t panic. I’m still working hard. The words will still come, despite the job.

Less that two weeks until my health, my friends, and my passions take priority again.

Less than two weeks until I’m writing books, working on photo shoots, doing new artwork.

Less than two weeks until days that I can relax if I don’t feel well and catch up on my DVR.

Less than two weeks until I can take up old hobbies again, like when I used to be an amateur magician. I know that sounds a little weird, but hey – I miss it.

Less than two weeks until I can figure out what I want to do for college.

If you want to summarize all that: Two weeks until I have my life back.

“Something has changed within me Something is not the same I’m through with playing by The rules of someone else’s game Too late for second-guessing Too late to go back to sleep It’s time to trust my instincts Close my eyes And leap”

Am I scared? Of course I am. Not having steady income is terrifying. But I’m driven by something that scares me even more – giving up on my dreams. I’ve been pushing everything that was important to me to the backburner for far too long, and I was growing comfortable with the idea of settling into a normal life. Not because it was what I wanted, but rather because it was what seemed easier. Maybe everyone is right, I would think. Maybe it’s time to grow up and accept that this dream will stay just that – a dream. And that isn’t like me. That SCARES me. If I want something, I go after it. It’s that simple.

But, I’ve got my manuscript revision finished and ready for Beta Readers and the final round(s) of editing to make it all polished and shiny. I’m booking shoots like you wouldn’t believe: some paying work, some portfolio updates, and some for designers. Not to mention finally getting back to my artwork properly, and having time for my friends again.

It also royally sucks that the coworkers I do like won’t be around every day. I know we can still get together and see each other if we want to, but it’s going to be weird not seeing each other every day like we do now. But I couldn’t stay forever, so this was bound to happen.

But at least, in the world of my art stuff, this happened:

Camren Bicondova, the talented gal that plays a young Selina Kyle (aka Catwoman) in the Fox TV series Gotham, LIKED THIS PHOTO OF HER I DID! I know, in the grand scheme of things, this can’t go on a resume or really much of anything. But HOLY FANGIRL MOMENT, BATMAN! SHE LIKED IT!

“When you can’t go forward, and you can’t go backward, and you can’t stay where you are without killing off something deep and vital in yourself, you are on the edge of creation.”– Sue Monk Kidd

Alright. So, I know I’ve said it before – “This is it, I’m leaving my day job” and “90 days left until I can get back to myself.” – yada yada, I know there have been many instances that I’ve said I’m going to give up working a job that makes me miserable and doesn’t benefit me in the long run.

But, well… By the end of February, I will no longer be working at my infamous and stressful day job. The Universe, as mentioned in my last post, came knocking. A serious of strange and in some ways unfortunate events led me to the realization that there are more important things in life than paying bills until I die. I will never, with the hours I work and amount of other things I have to worry about, get a book ready to be sent off. The odds are against me there.

Until now.

“I believe ardently that you should drop everything and run toward your true self.” -Kyran Pittman

Now I can focus on my health for a bit. I can devote hours to writing and editing and hunting for the perfect agent. I can work on my art and photography and just try, in general, to improve my chaotic little world. I’m not quitting the day job scene for good, just a little while until I can get back to feeling like myself.

Because obviously, bills don’t pay themselves, and won’t magically disappear just because I don’t have steady income. But this wasn’t a spur of the moment decision, and it wasn’t something I just came up with.

Like I said, the Universe came knocking on my door, and said it was time for me to go. In other words, they’re closing down where I work, and not everyone gets to keep their job. So, I might as well work until they’re closed, then let someone else have a position, and I can write and whatnot for a bit.

When faced with the decision – fight for a job I don’t want, or let someone who really needs the money have it… well, it was time to take my bow.

It’s time I put some serious work into my writing, and really get somewhere.

“Try to make your time matter: minutes and hours and days and weeks can blow away like dead leaves, with nothing to show but time you spent not quite ever doing things, or time you spent waiting to begin.” – Neil Gaiman (Read more here)

So there you have it. Of course I’m scared, because I’m human, and I’ve grown attached to the idea of having money appear in my bank account every two weeks, and going on adventures, and doing what I please. But I’m also very, very excited, because this is a brand new year, and I can maybe use it to become the person I haven’t been in some time – the girl who could write and draw and paint and take photos and let creativity flow freely and live some beautiful amazing life.

I had hoped I could take on 2015 better than I had 2014. But my final two days of 2014 were awful, and carried their awful into 2015. Bad work stuff, my aunt having poor health and being admitted to the hospital, and then my own health plummeting on New Years Eve and ruining my writing date (more on that in a moment), all contributed to one of the worst transitions into the New Year.

New Years Eve health junk was particularly bad. I went from a general not feeling so great, to shaking because I was so cold, to vomiting in the bathroom at work, and then delirious the rest of the night, with my mom and brother trying desperately to either get my fever down or to get me to agree to go to the hospital. Neither worked out, really, since I refused to do anything but burrow beneath a billion blankets and pass out randomly. They finally got me to drink and hold down fluids around midnight (Happy New Year! Drink your Sprite.) I refused to eat for well over 24 hours, and even then I barely ate anything. All I’ve had today is a piece of toast, and I wasn’t too excited about that.

I still feel pretty awful, and everyone is pretty well in agreement that I should see an oncologist (*gulp*), especially with my lymph nodes being crazy, and my liver being gigantic. I don’t drink or anything, so I know that alcohol has nothing to do with my liver. I guess we’ll see what fun health misadventures await me this year.

My sad, ruined New Years writing date with Taylor obviously was shot, as I mentioned, by my sickly meltdown. ‘But what is this writing date?’, you may be wondering. Well, Taylor and I have come up with a story idea. Something I’d like to see turned into a novel. He has a brilliant mind and should honestly write books, be a professor, make movies, and a million other things because he is, in fact, that amazing. But anyway, we had planned to have dinner, watch movies, and rough out some plot and a game plan for this book. I’m hoping I feel well enough to reschedule for this weekend.

Besides, it looks like 2015 is going to be a bumpy road. Maybe all the sudden bad at the end of 2014 was the Universe, yet again, screaming at me to refocus my priorities. I’d like to think that. I can imagine the Universe having a tantrum, yelling: “Alright, I’ve had enough of your shit! You have more important things to be thinking of. More important work to be done. NOW GET TO IT.”

The Universe has given me my ultimatum: Get your shit together, write, and take care of yourself, or die miserable and ignore your purpose. But how this ultimatum was presented is still scary to me. I can’t go into much detail at the moment, but let’s just say it’s 95% likely I will have A LOT of writing time on my hands in the coming months.

With the new year fast approaching, I have some goals in mind to make my life a little better in 2015. Some are simple and seem silly to others, while some seem like I’m aiming for too much in one year. But hey, can’t hurt to try, right? Aim for the moon, land among the stars.

So here are some goals or things I want to work on in the next year:

+ Write more, and accomplish something with said writing. Whether it’s an article, or a novel, I need to move forward.

+ Focus on my health. On improving it, and coping with it.

+ Give more time to my creative outlets, like photography and art. Because those things make me happy, and are good for my soul.

+ Fatten up my savings account. It’s time to move forward, in more ways than one.

+ Read more. Reading makes me happy. It’s a cheap escape from the every day world. And I’m a writer, dammit. Reading is important.

Of course things like travel are also included in next year, but not so much as goals to accomplish, because I will go somewhere regardless.

So, there you have it, my goals for 2015. While this year started off pretty rough, I won’t let the same happen to 2015. I will conquer. I will seize control of my life. I will take steps in the right direction again.